


Mister Steal Yah Girl

by JustGoldenViolet



Series: Team Fortress 2-Much [1]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Breaking the Fourth Wall, F/M, Polyamory, Video Game Mechanics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-10-20 20:35:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17629232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustGoldenViolet/pseuds/JustGoldenViolet
Summary: You work as a local surgeon and live in a medium home. You stumbled upon a computer that seemed to have a connection to a group of certain mercenaries...





	1. Da Faq?!?

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [From 0 to 9](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6572350) by [PolarRios](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PolarRios/pseuds/PolarRios), [Zebdo (PolarRios)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PolarRios/pseuds/Zebdo). 



> I ported this from my account on Wattpad

I stared intently at the patient before me, assessing what medical instrument I should use. Would it be this or would it be that? I'm a surgeon at Saint Mike Hospital. It's my job to make sure my patients stay on this plane of Reality and not to the Underworld. 

I know, morbid right? I can't help it that I'm a sadist. I pushed the blade onto the marked skin and was left into my world humming a familiar tune...

* * *

 

 

The patient, Mr. Jake Logan is fortunately still alive today. I finished the procedure of taking his kidney stones out. I am at home, sipping my milk and hazelnut creamer drink while playing Team Fortress 2.

Yeah yeah, the game is decades old. But who gives a crap, it's a good game. Even made some international buddies because of it. I was the medic, and I gotta tell yah, I LOVE to kill with my Ubër Saw. I was playing against my buddy from France, Gracia, when my computer crashed.

" ** _MY COMPUTER IS AN ASSHAT!_** ," I screamed in anger. In a fit of rage, I threw my laptop across the room, breaking it in two.

_Shit_

* * *

 

 _"_ Okay, I'll let you have my old computer, but please for the love of every religion figure," my co-worker, Desireé, continued, "don't get a virus or something."

I came to ask Desiree if I could have her old computer which she said 'was cursed'. Okay. Whateva. She gave me her laptop, and closed the door in my face.

* * *

  


_Time to_ _kick_ _some Heavy ASS!_ I changed in my head as I finished setting up the computer.

As my casual match was loading, a _ding_ came from the computer. I disconnected from my game and checked to see where the ding came from.

A website opened on my internet browser. ' _Click_ _now for a free dream_ _come_ _true!'_ It had in bright wording and font.  _Spam._ I tried to delete the tab but it stayed

 _Shit_ _not even one day and it already has a virus._ I thought in disappointment at myself.  I clicked on it because I don't have anything a hacker or anyone would want. 'What's your name?' it asked. I typed it in and it loaded for awhile till it said _'Dream Granted!'_

Uncaring I clicked off and proceeded to play Team Fortress 2.

 _ Then  _ _ I _ _ heard a buzzing noise from  _ _ the _ _ living room... _  



	2. Cliche Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three fictional characters are in my house now. What the hell? Am I in a fanfiction now, because I so do not want to be in those cringy angst stories or a Mary-Sue or some shit.

"Heya Engie- WHAT DA FUCK?!?" I heard a voice yell from my living room.

 I quickly recognized the voice from the game I only so recently just played.

 _Welp_ _if I'm gonna_ _live_ _in a goddamn stereotypical reader insert fanfiction, I'll damn well play the part,_ I thought in my brain.

 When I entered the living room, I found out that there were not one, but three entities. One was a young twenty-somethings year old. He was around six foot ten, and was on the medium side. He had a brown cap on, and cloudy blue eyes. His skin was slight tan and a long chin. He had a red T-shirt, baggy khakis, socks that reached halfway on his calf, and baseball shoes. He also had silver dog tags and a brown bag on his back that looked like a bag a paperboy would have.

 The other man was about six foot eleven and had a red balaclava mask on. He had a thin but long build. He wore a red striped tuxedo, a red tie, white undershirt, red striped pants, black dress shoes, and black leather gloves. His skin was a dark tan but not black. He had a slight stubble all on his visible chin and top lip. He had icy blue eyes and hollow cheeks. He had a long protruding chin. I would say he was in his fortys.

 The last man was about seven foot four and seemed to go to the ceiling. He had a large build, mainly in the chest, arms, and stomach. He had small legs compared to the rest of his body. He had a red T-shirt on, but with a black sleeveless vest too. He had black finger less gloves that had holes where his knuckles were. There was a bullet strap across his chest, navy green jeans, and black military boots. His skin tone was almond, and he had blue eyes that seemed sad. He had a square chin with a minor stubble. He had no hair.

The one with the mask on noticed me immediately. He pointed a revolver head straight to my temple. "Mademoiselle," he started having a heavy French accent, "tell us, _where are we and who are 'ou_."

I looked into his eyes and said, "You are in my living room,  _gentilhomme._ Now-" I moved my hand to remove the gun from my head, but he quickly pressed the gun harder into my skull. " _Hphm_ , anyways, my name is (Y/N) Young. And before you ask, I have no idea how you got here."

He looked at me hard for a while before releasing the gun from my head. 

"What if she's a Spy?" the youngest said with a Boston accent, pointing his shotgun with two barrels at me.

"Da, leetle baby-man is right. What if she is Spy?" the largest said, pointing his huge minigun at me. He spoke chopped English with a heavy Russian accent. I didn't miss a beat as the youngster shot at me, and quickly dodged out of the way.

He had his mouth wide open while the largest gave me a raised brow. The masked one gave me a look of suspicion- and interest. "So who are 'ou really?" the masked one asked, putting his hand to his chin.

"The person who can kick you out of their house, but I have a feeling that does not faze you at all," I replied swiftly, challenging his gaze. He then bowed and pulled my hand to his mouth.

"My apologies mademoiselle, we started off on ze wrong foot. My name is Spy," the Frenchman said, kissing the top of my hand. I just nodded. Once he pulled up, I then bowed and pulled _his_ hand.

"So you're a gentleman," I asked looking at his monotone expression. His eyes said he was surprised. "Well then, _so am I,"_ I kissed his hand. Once I pulled up, he quickly retracted his hand, wiping it on his pants.

"Lady, if you are even one, we gotta know da town we are in and what me and my _pals_ need to regroup," the boy said then added, "In private!"

He collected the other men and huddled them in a corner. I turned away to get on my phone to talk to Desiree about this recent turn of events

 

GoldenCherie: Heya Des you know how you told me not to get any viruses on my computer?

PlatonicNightmares: You didn't

GoldenCherie: I think...maybe...? I don't know, but come to my house ASAP!

PlatonicNightmares: You owe me two now

 

 

I looked up to see the boy stare at me, but once he saw me look he quickly went back in the huddle. Spy fully stood up, pulled his tie in place, and strolled to me. "First we would like to ask you some questions _in a calm manner,_ " Spy said, lighting up a cigarette. I reached out to him and quickly snatched the cigarette out of his mouth. His mouth turned into a scowl, then just as fast was in his monotone expression.

"Alright, deal, but I also get to ask some questions," I said, seeing the group have conflicted expressions, "also no cigarettes _in my house._ Second hand smoke is worse than first hand smoke, and I really don't feel like getting sick, alright?". Not waiting for a reply I bowed and gestured to the living room couch. They skeptically sat on it, checking for traps most likely and what-not.

"Alright, let's get this started."


End file.
